


I guess that's love (I can't pretend)

by Skyson



Category: The Blacklist (TV)
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-12-23
Updated: 2016-12-23
Packaged: 2018-09-07 05:21:18
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 8
Words: 12,693
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8784730
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Skyson/pseuds/Skyson
Summary: AU in which Red, Mr. Kaplan, and Dembe's original rescue of Agnes in Cuba was successful, and Red's associates along with Elizabeth's actual FBI training help her get away from Alexander Kirk. Basically most of season 4 hasn't happened. Rated for later chapters. Title inspired by Tom Odell song "Can't Pretend".





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> I wanted to contribute to my favourite love/hate show, The Blacklist. I've been a Lizzington shipper since "I think you're very special," though this is my first attempt at writing them.

Her stomach clenched horribly as fear and adrenalin coursed through her.

There was her child. Safe, but yet in the arms of Raymond Reddington.

He was holding her so carefully, and so securely, that her little girl was obviously in no immediate danger from him. But all Liz could envision right now were his hands covered in blood, the blood of someone else, the blood of people he's murdered. His fingers wrapped so casually around the butt of a gun, ending another criminal's life with never a second thought.

But then she focused on his face, and how light his eyes looked as he gazed at the baby in his arms. How pleasure creased the corners of his eyes, curled upward his lips, softened his face.

And she found herself starting to smile as well.

"Red." She sighed in relief, and his gaze whipped upward in shock.

"Liz - Elizabeth?" He questioned, as if he didn't believe it was her standing in front of him. (He might not have, given the circumstances.) She nodded, giving him a little apologetic look, stepping forward. "I - " He immediately looked worried, and quickly handed Agnes off to Liz, who cuddled her close and brushed her hair away from her sleepy face. Staring down at her beautiful baby girl, so she wouldn't have to look at the expression he now wore. "No one knows I had her. I made sure of that, to keep her safe, until..." He grimaced. "I understand that you don't want me around her."

"You kept her safe, Reddington." Liz gently interjected. She looked up at him now, so he would note her seriousness, "Thank you." He looked surprised, but then dropped his gaze toward the child, his face almost reaching that same level of softness Liz had noticed just moments ago. He loved Agnes, Liz knew that without him ever having to say a word, she could see it in the way he looked at her.

But Liz still felt that Agnes wouldn't be safe in Red's world.

"I'm...sorry that," She began, figuring that she'd work out her thoughts as she spoke, but he shook his head and took her elbow.

"Not here, Elizabeth. Dembe can take you to a safe location I have procured - "

"Red, no." She said determinedly, not allowing him to pull her across the large garage. The plane she'd flown in on had already taxied away on yet another mission for Mr. Kaplan, and the enormous space was eerily quiet. "Kirk will be searching any locations that have any sort of connection to you,"

"It's not my place." Red assured her, holding his hand out in request, now, palm up. She stared at him for a moment. "You'll be staying with Aram, for the time being." Red clarified, hand still aloft.

"Aram?" Liz repeated. Red looked momentarily perturbed.

"I confess I did request the man clean up the place a little, and make it more baby friendly."

"Aram." Liz repeated again, and smiled. She'd missed her friend, so much. "He's not angry with me?" She wondered carefully, her smile dropping, and Red looked sorry now, as if he hadn't been affected by her lie at all.

"He is." Red told her truthfully. "They all are. But Aram takes your friendship very seriously, and your livelihood. While you're in danger, he won't let his personal feelings override the need to keep you safe."

"He won't make the same mistakes you have, you mean?" Liz pointed out, unable to keep from jabbing at him, and Red pressed his lips together, simply looking at her. She rested her hand in his finally, and let him lead her to the car.


	2. Chapter 2

"I'm sorry I hurt you." Liz told him as they drove through the city. She kept her eyes forward, studiously avoiding anything his eyes might do to draw her in. It wouldn't do to be distracted right now. They needed to talk about this. "That was never my intention. My only intention was to keep Agnes safe."

"And you assumed that in of itself would not have hurt me?" Red mused. "Agnes is - "

"I honestly didn't expect ... The extent." Liz interrupted, frowning a little as she floundered over how to put into words what had happened. She felt Red's gaze on her now, but she didn't turn to meet it. "Kate told me..." She trailed off, seeing from the corner of her eye how his shoulders tensed.

" _Kate_." He practically spat her name. Liz was saddened to see that he'd lost trust in such a friend - God knows he had so few of those - but Kate had assured Liz that she was prepared for 'the wrath of Raymond'. That didn't really make Liz feel any better about it, though, even if the whole thing had been Kate's idea to begin with.

"She told me you went off the map for a while," Liz clarified. "That the last place Dembe knew where you were, was some sort of opium den? And then you suddenly appeared again, out of the blue, with Aram no less - what's up with the two of you, anyway?"

"Did...did she tell you where Aram and I were?" Red wondered, sounding worried. Liz narrowed her eyes slightly, sensing that they were treading territory that he didn't want her to be aware of.

"She did not." Liz answered carefully, and Red visibly relaxed. He turned his gaze toward the window, clearly not going to tell Liz where he'd been.

"As I said before," Red replied, "Aram is a good man. And a fine agent."

"Of course." Liz agreed easily, noting in the back of her head to ask Aram some questions once the two of them had a moment alone.

Agnes fussed a little in the car seat between them, and just as Liz was turning toward her child, Red was already reaching his hand into the carrier.

Liz hesitated, watching as he wiggled his fingers where Agnes could see. The little girl gurgled, less fussy, and grasped one of his fingers. He gently shook her hand back and forth, playing with her until she made a happier noise, almost a giggle. He smiled down at her adoringly, resting his arm on the edge of the carrier so she could continue holding onto his finger while he returned his gaze toward the window.

Just as clear as it had been that Red loved Agnes, it was also clear that love was returned. And Liz was conflicted on how she felt about that.


	3. Chapter 3

" _Liz_ ," Aram breathed in relief, and she was momentarily nonplused that he hadn't called her his usual 'Agent Keen'. He opened the apartment door wider once realizing that it was her and Reddington, but she hesitated in the hall.

She'd had to make this man - her friend - believe she was _dead,_ and knowing Aram, she could imagine how he may have reacted.

His expression softened from surprise to pleasure, and Liz handed Agnes' carrier to Reddington so she could hug Aram. He held her tighter than she would have expected, and she found herself patting his back a bit awkwardly.

"Perhaps," Reddington mused dryly, "we could take this reunion inside of the apartment?"

"Right, right, come in," Aram hurriedly let her go and stepped back, gesturing they enter. Reddington and Dembe shared a nod between them, and Dembe stood in the hall by the door, loosely clasping his hands together in front of him.

Liz made a mental note to thank Dembe, later. She had no doubt that he had kept an eye on Reddington's back. The crime lord was dangerous, unpredictable, and held down by no law other than his own - yet Liz inexplicably found herself still concerned for him.

 

 

**_1 WEEK LATER:_ **

 

"Where's Tom?" Liz wondered, not for the first time, catching the annoyed twitch of Red's mouth. She hadn't heard a word from her ex-husband since Kirk's men had shown up in Cuba.

"Tom is gone." Red replied, setting his hat atop the counter and opening a cabinet, pulling out a bottle of scotch and a glass.

"Gone?" She repeated, slightly more shrill. She also wondered why Aram had a bottle of one of Red's preferred scotches in his apartment, but she could ask him that question later.

"He's working," Red sighed, opening the bottle with a 'pop' of the cork. Liz pressed her hands against the counter across from him, leaning toward him.

"What do you have him doing?" She demanded. "Is he in danger?"

Red pursed his lips, and didn't answer her until he'd poured a satisfying amount of liquor into his glass.

"I don't have him doing anything. Tom hasn't technically worked for me since he tried to marry you the first time, remember?" He closed up the bottle again and set to the side. "As for the status of his person, I couldn't tell you. His new employer and I aren't exactly in the business of exchanging information with one another."

"You know who he's working for?" Liz asked, and Red raised his eyebrow.

"He didn't tell you?" He sounded both surprised, and amused. Liz frowned as he slowly sipped from his glass, taking his time enjoying the taste before swallowing. "It's a private military intelligence firm that works around American foreign policy to resolve...certain situations. I imagine they have quite the use for a man of Tom's talents."

"So he's..." She frowned deeply, unable to help that she was hurt, by Tom, yet again. She really had been trying, for Agnes, to have some semblance of a normal family. She should have known that wouldn't be impossible with someone like Tom.

"I'm sorry, Elizabeth." Red sounded like he meant that, though it was only in regard for her, not Tom. The fact that the man had disappeared in Cuba irked Red to no end, and he knew without a doubt that he would not give any hesitation to shooting him the next time he saw him.

"Do you mind sharing?" Liz sighed, gesturing toward his glass. He gave her a surprised look, and hesitated.

"Are you still...breastfeeding?" He asked, and she made a face at him.

"Would I have asked, otherwise?" She retorted. "Anyhow, Agnes has been out of my hands for so long... She's been drinking formula."

"Right." Red murmured softly, once more returning to the cabinet to retrieve another glass. He poured and passed her the glass, then closed the bottle and returned it to it's hiding place. Only then did he also remove his jacket, folding it carefully and resting it over the end of the counter, out of the way. "How is she doing?" Red inquired softly, in that tone of voice Liz has discovered he reserves specifically for the young child.

She ran her finger along the rim of her glass for a moment, swallowing down her feelings of frustration and resignation regarding Tom.

"I don't deserve how good she is." Liz admitted, and Red's lip curled into something almost like a smile.

"Just wait until she begins teething," He replied, and his tone of voice spoke from experience.

Not for the first time, though it had been a long while since she last thought of it, Liz remembered that he had once had a family. A family that he, supposedly, ran away from. Sometimes, his countenance suggested something more saddening, and after even having met his ex-wife, she knew there was more to the story than anyone said. There was always more to the story. However, no matter how angry Liz ever got with him, she wasn't so low a person to bring that subject up. He couldn't always hide how much he still cared for his past family.

"Why are you here?" Liz asked, more calmly and curiously than she probably would have asked previously. He chewed on the corner of his lip for a moment, the gesture very telling.

"I wanted my scotch." He eventually answered, lifting his glass. She raised her eyebrow, not falling for his half-truths.

"Why _is_  there a bottle of your scotch here?" She pressed pointedly, and the muscle in his jaw twitched. "As an excuse?" He chuckled as if that had vaguely insulted him.

"This is far too expensive to waste on something so trivial," He scoffed, lifting the glass eye level to peer through the liquid, before taking another sip.

"What is this, Reddington?" She sighed, setting her glass on the counter. He looked her in the eyes and said very directly,

"This is goodbye."

For some reason, her immediate reaction was to frown. His definitive tone made it a little difficult to breathe, made her stomach roll against the sharp heat of the alcohol. She suddenly felt more worried now than she has over her 'missing' ex-husband, and she hated that about herself; she hated that Reddington always seemed to garner more of her attention and emotions than anyone else (save for Agnes, anyhow.)

"What?"

"You were right." He admitted, looking apologetic. "About the danger I pose for you, for her," He gestured his head toward the back hall, where Agnes was sleeping in the guest room. "Kate was right." He said softly, looking down for a moment. "I told myself that I would be able to protect you. I was so selfish... I didn't want to lose you. I wanted to have you in my life, even if that threatened your own." He shook his head at himself. "So stupid," He murmured, drinking a long swallow of his scotch.

"You're serious." Liz realized, and he met her gaze again. His eyes were sad but his expression was resolute.

"You want me gone," He reminded her, his tone a bit sharper. He deserved to be annoyed - she has told him to leave her alone countless times in the past. She pressed her lips together, remembering that, knowing that. And yet.... He seemed to know her doubts, because his eyes grew steely and he set his glass down on the counter. "Please, Elizabeth, for the love of God, do not make this more difficult for me."

"I don't," She held her hands up in the air apologetically, "I don't mean to. I'm sorry. I'm sorry, Reddington," She apologized sincerely, meaning it for more than just this moment. She meant it for everything. "I just," She fumbled to find an excuse to use, "what about our agreement? What about the Blacklisters?"

His responding laugh had no humour behind it.

"Our agreement still stands," He assured her, "I will continue to give you criminals to capture. But it won't be... like before. It won't be like this."

Her frown deepened.

"What do you mean?" She wondered, and he shook his head, reaching to drink the rest of his scotch before putting the empty glass back onto the counter and answering her.

"It's the 21st century. I'm sure I'll find a way to communicate with you." He waved his hand in the air offhandedly, and she opened her mouth to say something, but then closed it again. A beat of silence passed.

"So you're leaving, leaving." She acknowledged, and he gave her that look again; that look that somehow seemed simultaneously both disappointed and adoring.

"That's what being out of your life means, Lizzie." He pointed out softly, and her next inhalation of breath she held, trying to accept what he was saying. "Well, as far as our continuing arrangement will allow, anyhow." He shrugged. After a beat, he reached for his coat, and she quickly reached out and set her hand atop his, stopping him.

"Don't," She started, intending for some kind of 'not just yet', though her voice came across much more distressed than she meant to reveal. Looking up at him, she saw how he pressed his eyes closed, looking pained, whether by her touch or by her words she wasn't sure.

"Elizabeth," He started to warn, but she interrupted him,

"I haven't heard you call me Lizzie in a long time." She commented, keeping her hand over his atop his coat. He opened his eyes to look at her again, his expression now resigned.

"You don't like it," He sighed, tired.

"That's not true," She started, and he raised his eyebrows mockingly. "It's not. I do like it, okay? I like it...too much." She admitted, glancing away momentarily. His hand seemed to tense beneath hers, but he still didn't pull away. "I don't want you to go." She said decidedly, and he rolled his eyes, now pulling away, using his hands to straighten his waistcoat that didn't need straightening.

"Yes you do." He almost snorted. "I'll leave the whiskey," He informed her, sliding his coat out from under her hand and folding it across his arm. "Perhaps it will give Aram some gumption." He mused, stepping toward the end of the counter, reaching for his hat.

Liz snatched it up before he could, and he gave her an almost appalled expression. She knew this was his favourite hat; he wore it more than any of the others. He wouldn't leave without it.

"Listen to me." She demanded, and his mouth twitched as he refrained from saying something more biting, in favour of saying,

"I don't need to hear you out, Elizabeth. You have told me numerous times before that the safety of your daughter is imperative. I happen to agree with that. I don't need any other excuses. Now, if you would," He held his hand out expectantly, but she took a step away from him. His eyes glinted sharply for a moment, a warning, and honestly that thrilled her a little bit.

"I've changed my mind!" She blurted, and he looked at her incredulously.

"About the safety of your child?" He wondered, his tone of voice just as incredulous as his expression.

"No," She insisted, "just the management of it." He narrowed his eyes, but listened. "I'm an FBI agent. An agent that continually works with a team to bring in some of the worst criminals known to man. An agent that will still be working with you, I might add. Regardless if she'll actually be in the same room with you, her life will still be in some sort of danger...just because of who I am and what I do for a living." Her voice trembled, and she swallowed, steeling herself. "I would be a fool to think that just because you step out of a room suddenly life will become worry-free."

"It might help," He replied admittedly, and she shrugged half-heartedly.

"Maybe so. And maybe not." She licked her lips before continuing, "Maybe it will become more worrisome, if you leave. Maybe I'll know even less of what you're up to, than I do now. Maybe I'll never know where you are in the world at any given moment, who you've spoken to recently, who you're planning to speak with in the future. Maybe you get kidnapped again and don't have the FBI to back you up."

He smiled as if she were being cute.

"I'm sure I can find an associate or two to assist me in my time of need." He assured her, and she frowned at him. "I've survived many years without the FBI 'at my back'."

"But I didn't know about those years. I didn't spend any of those years wondering...worrying," She admitted, and he tilted his head to the side as he looked at her.

"Your concern is touching, but unnecessary." He eventually said, his tone completely detached. She chewed on the corner of her lip for a second, fighting back the emotion that has reared up inside her.

"She loves you, Red." Liz finally blurted, her last ditch effort. "How can I..."

"She's still just a baby. She'll forget me soon enough." He promised, clenching his jaw afterward, as if saying that had made him nauseous.

"I don't want her to." Liz told him, and he narrowed his eyes.

"Elizabeth," He warned.

"I intend to tell her the truth. When she's old enough to understand. I don't want to lie to her," Liz informed him, and he grimaced, moving toward the living room and sighing as he sat down on Aram's couch. Liz stared at the back of his head for a minute, then followed him into the room, standing in front of him. He tilted his head against the back of the couch before replying to her, quiet and measured.

"We talked about this."

"We did." She agreed, nodding as she looked down at him, his hat still in her hand.

"You told me that we would never even broach this topic. You insisted upon it. I followed your wishes."

"And I could never thank you enough for that. The things that I've done to you..." She trailed off, self-deprecating, and he lifted his head to look at her.

"Me?" He chuckled, shaking his head at her ridiculousness. "The things that you have done to me?"

"Sure you aren't perfect, but you don't deserve what I've done, or what I've asked you to do!" She exclaimed, and he shook his head again, his laughter dying out into a heavy sigh.

"I deserve many things, Elizabeth, and none of them good." He said with deep exhaustion. She stepped closer to him, her knees almost touching his, glaring at him.

"Get up." She ordered, and he opened his eyes again. "Get up." She stepped back, and he did as asked, expecting that she was kicking him out. "Come on," She wrapped her fingers around his forearm, pulling him with her toward the hallway.

"What," He started, and she pushed him into the guest room, guiding him toward Agnes' crib.

"Look," Liz urged, and he glanced at her almost pleadingly before turning his gaze down toward the child. She was only partially asleep; fighting against it quietly, tossing her little fists against the crib next to her head.

As Liz watched him, his expression crumbled into softness, and he smiled very carefully at the baby. She gurgled, her eyes widening as she looked up at him. She didn't quite yet have the ability to smile yet, but Liz was sure that she'd be grinning if she could.

"May I?" He murmured, as if he were unable to help himself, and Liz immediately nodded, taking his coat from him gently, carefully laying it on the edge of the bed as Red reached into the crib and picked up Agnes, cuddling her close against his chest. Her little hand reached up and grasped his chin, making him smile widely for a moment, and then she yawned so big that Liz almost made a vocal noise at the adorableness.

He started swaying his upper body very gently back and forth, consciously or subconsciously Liz wasn't sure, but Agnes almost immediately closed her eyes and fell asleep. Red continued rocking her, just looking down at her, the smile still on his face. Liz set his hat down on top of his coat, and then stepped closer to Red, resting her hand against the side of his shoulder.

"Let me be the selfish one this time." Liz whispered, ducking her head a little as she looked at him. He hesitated before meeting her gaze fully.

"I can't do domestic, Lizzie." He replied just as quietly, and she shifted her hand to place it against his cheek. He immediately tilted his head to put more pressure against her palm, as if it were another thing he couldn't resist. (She remembered that about him, too; about how he would lean into every touch she ever offered. Things that she conveniently forgot while she was angry with him.)

"I would never ask you to." She promised. He gave her a long, searching look before turning to put sleeping Agnes back in her crib, brushing his hand against the top of her head before standing straight again. "I'm just asking you not to leave. Please."

He kept his hands rested atop the crib for a long moment, his back to Liz. He dropped his head before eventually speaking,

"I'm not a toy to be picked up and then tossed down again at leisure."

"I know," She whispered, her heart breaking at the way she had treated him these past months. Sure he was a criminal, and a bastard at times, but she still firmly believed that the good man that was still inside him didn't deserve what she had done. "Raymond," She called gently, and he finally turned to face her. "I'm so, sorry."

She lifted her hand, grasping his elbow gently, and for a moment he didn't move. She gave him an imploring look, and his attempt at stoicism dropped, and he stepped closer to her, opening his arms. She wrapped her arms around his body tightly, tucking her chin over his shoulder, pressing her cheek against his jaw. He hesitated before returning the hug, his hands light against her upper back before he eventually pulled her more firmly against his chest. She turned her head, murmuring apologies against the collar of his shirt, her nose brushing against his neck.

She'd once stabbed him with a pen in this exact spot; a tiny scar that was only noticeable if you knew about it. Without really thinking about it, she lightly touched her lips against it, and his entire body tensed. She apologized quietly again, and one of his hands slid up her back and against the nape of her neck, his fingers carding through her hair and cradling the back of her head.

"Don't apologize for that," He soothed, sounding vaguely amused, shifting his head to nuzzle his nose against the side of her brow, his lips grazing her cheek.

She slid her hands to his front, fingers grasping his waistcoat gently, not even enough to wrinkle it. She stepped back toward the bed, tugging him with her, and he allowed it with some hesitation, his feet stumbling slightly.

"Lizzie," He half-protested, though his hands were still on her waist and nape, and his eyes were soft and unconcerned.

"Sleep here?" She requested, her fingers pausing at the top button of his waistcoat, her eyes boring into his. He swallowed deeply, his lips twitching as he looked down at her, and he framed his hands around her jaw.

"I'm afraid there is nothing you could do to make me stop caring for you, Lizzie," He sighed, both of them knowing how unfortunate that was for him, how dangerous it was for him to have such a weakness in his line of work. Liz knew that she had abused that, too, and right now she just wanted him to feel cared for and comforted.

She smiled softly and lifted her hands to cover his, turning their bodies around before sliding her palms across his arms and atop his shoulders, pushing him to sit on the edge of the bed next to his coat and hat. She then grasped his wrists, turning her head to kiss one of his palms before lowering his hands to his lap. He gave her a questioning look as she knelt down in front of him, and when he opened his mouth she shook her head, wrapping her fingers around the back of his ankle and lifting his foot slightly, untying his shoelaces.

"Let me." She murmured, looking into his eyes as she gently pulled his shoe off, and then moved toward his other foot. His expression softened into almost that same look she had seen him give Agnes, and he didn't fight her as she tidily set his shoes together on the floor, removing his socks as well and tucking each one into the respective shoe.

He rested his hands onto the bedspread next to him as she sat up on her knees, shifting closer to unbutton his waistcoat. He widened his knees a little so she could reach him better, smiling a little when her tongue darted out as she focused on each button. When she had finished, without a word he pulled the vest off, laying it atop his coat, his hands returning to the bedspread when she turned her focus toward his tie. She slid it between her fingers for a moment, appreciating it's softness, and for a split second he had his first lust-filled thought; wondering if she would like it if he'd tie her wrists together with the fabric.

The moment passed, and she slipped two fingers underneath the front of his collar, holding it as she tugged loose his tie. The backs of her fingers brushed against the hollow of his throat and he swallowed, and she smiled as she felt it. Once the knot was undone, she pulled the tie slowly out from his collar, draping it just as carefully as she'd handled everything else, overtop his waistcoat. Her fingers returned to his collar, touching the top button before she hesitated for the first time since she'd started undressing him, her eyes darting up toward his questioningly.

He pressed his lips together and nodded, lifting his chin to give her more access. She opened each button of his dress shirt just as slowly and methodically as she had his waistcoat, stopping only once she reached his waistband, where his shirt was still tucked in and secured by his belt.

"Perhaps," He finally spoke, his voice gravelly and catching, his hand curling around her wrist to stop her. She nodded silently, resting back on her haunches, watching him as he, with mildly trembling hands, undid the buckle and pulled his belt loose from the catch. Sliding the belt from around his waist, he wrapped it loosely around his wrist before setting it on top of the growing pile of clothes next to him. He didn't miss the way her tongue traced across her bottom lip, but he did his best to ignore it. He pulled the ends of his shirt out from his waistband, moving just as slowly as she had been, not wanting to break the moment.

She reached forward, wanting to finish her job unbuttoning his shirt, and he set his hands back on the bedspread, fingers clenching the fabric a little more than he had been before. When she finished, she held onto the open ends of the shirt and pushed it off of him herself, her arms encircling him momentarily as she reached around him.

As soon as his arms were free he wrapped them around her waist, tugging her up against him as he lay back onto the bed. The shirt was treated a little less tenderly as she dropped it next to them without looking, both of them fairly sure it fell to the floor at the side of the bed. She was trying not to chuckle as they clumsily slid a little further up the mattress, his hands curving around her butt to support her as she slid her knees up onto the bed. His own legs still hung off the end of the bed as she straddled him, but he didn't mind, because she was stroking her fingers against the sides of his face, looking down at him in a way that left him breathless.

She felt so light on top of him, wrapped around him, that he could fall asleep just like this, and he closed his eyes, committing this moment to memory. It would go into the same box in the corner of his mind as the last time....

"Red," She whispered, and he opened his eyes. She pressed her thumbs against his cheekbones, smiling, waiting until he was smiling as well before lowering her lips to his.

She kissed him with parted lips, gingerly, barely touching him before pulling away. He immediately lifted his head to follow her, capturing her mouth again, just as gentle as she had been, but with no hesitation.

They kissed like that for a while, his hands running along her back and her thighs and through her hair, both of their movements slow and calm as if time were not a construct for them. They kissed until the weight of exhaustion overpowered them, and they shifted lazily further onto the bed, heads reaching pillows but not bothering to pull down the comforter beneath them.

Liz fell asleep facing him, her body tucked against his and his arms looped around her protectively. She slipped her ankle between his, and he pressed his lips against her forehead, murmuring something she couldn't hear before sleep completely overtook her.


	4. Chapter 4

She awoke sated, smiling slowly at the morning light streaming through the blinds. She'd slept through the entire night, for the first time in a very long time.

Stretching, realizing she was alone on the bed, she pushed herself up onto her hands, looking toward Agnes' crib. Reddington's jacket slipped off of her; he must've draped it over her at some point, perhaps when he'd gotten up. That pleasing thought was quickly overridden with a moment of panic when she saw that the crib was empty, though.

Logically, she knew that Red or Aram must have the child, but after everything that had happened recently, it was difficult not to worry. Liz got to her feet quickly, running her hand through her hair as she opened the bedroom door and padded barefoot out into the main area of the apartment.

She paused at the entryway between the living room and the hall, unable to keep the wide smile off of her face at the sight before her.

Aram, who looked a little weirded out, was standing at the stove, cooking breakfast as he watched Reddington, who was laying on the floor in the living room, next to a baby play mat that featured little stuffed animals hanging down above Agnes. She was making happy baby noises, her little hand reaching up to touch one of the animals every now and then. Red would then reach out and poke a different one, which she seemed to find incredibly exciting, and she would kick her feet and start the process over again.

Laying there in just his trousers and undershirt, his head propped up on his hand, Red looked awfully domestic at the moment and Liz's smile widened. It was amazing how Agnes could turn the Concierge of Crime into this rather heartwarming scene in front of her.

"Liz!" Aram hissed, whispering so Reddington couldn't hear. She jumped, pulled out of her reverie, and sidled over to her friend.

"Good morning, Aram," She greeted, her eyes on Red for a moment, seeing if he noticed her. When he didn't tear his gaze from Agnes, she turned her eyes toward Aram. She searched his eyes as she quickly tried to come up with a story that would appease him, without letting him know that she'd slept all night next to Number Four on the FBI's Most Wanted list.

"I woke up to find Raymond Reddington standing in my kitchen this morning, making coffee. Barefoot!" Aram told her, appalled, shifting the frying pan of scrambled eggs.

"I'm sorry, Aram," She apologized, "I had sent Dembe home and Red and I shared some of his scotch last night, and it had gotten so late... I suggested he sleep on the couch."

"Oh, it's fine, it's fine," Aram assured her, and she believed that, so she raised her eyebrow in confusion. "It's just, I mean," he stammered, glancing back toward Red, who'd heard their murmured voices and was now getting to his feet, "he looks so...relaxed."

"Do his bare feet frighten you, Aram?" Liz teased her friend, smiling when Red's gaze met hers. He smiled as well, a Reddington smile, not quite the same one that she saw last night. They didn't want Aram, or anyone else for that matter, to know the true nature of their relationship.

"Good morning, Elizabeth." Red greeted her warmly, before stooping down to pick up Agnes. "Let's go see Mommy," He cooed to the baby, and Liz smirked as she heard Aram choke a little. Agnes was a bit displeased being taken away from her toy, but as soon as Liz was within her eyesight she began wriggling in Red's arms, reaching her hands out toward her mother.

Red passed the child over carefully, his hands brushing against Liz's deliberately but unnoticeable to Aram.

"Hello, beautiful," Liz said to her little girl, tilting her head to brush her nose against Agnes' forehead and gently kiss her there. Red made a rumbling noise in the back of his throat, a happy sound, and Liz glanced up at him sharply in warning. Catching himself staring at her, he cleared his throat and turned his head toward Aram.

"I should go wash up. Breakfast smells absolutely delightful, Agent Mojtabai." Red smiled close-lipped at Aram before turning and disappearing down the hall, and Liz turned toward her friend as she rocked her baby in her arms.

"You like eggs, right? And bacon?" Aram wondered, his tone forced through nervousness, moving the frying pan off of the burner and turning the stove off.

"Yes, Aram," She smiled gratefully at her friend, tipping forward on her toes to give him a chaste peck on his cheek. "Thank you. For everything." Agnes began fussing in hunger, so Liz started to head toward the hallway to fetch the baby bag. "Hopefully we'll be out of your hair soon enough." She promised him, and he smiled softly at her as he plated their food.

"It's not a problem, Liz. Truly." His smile wavered slightly as he glanced beyond her. "Can you tell him I swear I won't tell anybody about what I saw this morning?"

"I'll tell him." Liz promised, grinning as she turned and continued toward the guest room, Agnes gurgling in her arms.


	5. Chapter 5

**_11 MONTHS LATER_ **

 

Liz has established a fairly decent pattern in her life, once the threat of Alexander Kirk had been removed from her life. She hadn't been given the details of what happened, but Reddington had disappeared for a few days, coming back looking a little worse for wear, but immensely relieved.

When Kirk had discovered through multiple blood tests that Liz wasn't actually his daughter, he'd become uncontrollably irate, and for fear of endangering her friends further, Liz had agreed to living in Reddington's "prepared apartment" inside of the large storage building. It turned out that what Kirk wanted the most was a face-to-face with Reddington, and she assumed that whatever was said between the two men was enough to appease Kirk.

Liz also realized that this apartment wasn't half bad, and it's location allowed Mr. Kaplan to come by every now and then to look after Agnes whenever necessary.

Some days, like today, Liz brought Agnes in to the Post Office with her. The day would be filled with computer research and paperwork, nothing dangerous for the small child, and it also gave her friends some often-demanded time with the girl. She even had a small playpen set up in the corner of her office.

At the moment, Ressler had Agnes propped high against his waist, holding her with one arm while he wiggled his other hand in front of her, threatening her with tickles. Her gales of laughter echoed against the metal and concrete against the room, immediately making Liz smile in response.

She really didn't deserve their kindness, after what she had done to them, but even Samar had eventually forgiven her. Agnes had helped, of course. No one could resist those big hazel eyes of hers.

"Alright, little miz Scott," Ressler announced to the girl in his arms, "Ressler needs some coffee. Which means you," He tilted her down slightly and swung around in a slow circle, "get to see..."

"I'll take her," Samar piped up, holding her arms out when his circular trajectory faced him in her direction. Ressler passed Agnes off, wiggling his fingers at her one last time before he turned and headed toward the coffee counter.

Seeing that her coworkers seemed quite content having Agnes around on the main floor for now, Liz returned to her office to finish up some files on the computer. Not five minutes had passed before she heard a commotion, and she raised her eyebrow curiously toward her open door. Reddington soon stepped in, his hat in hand, chuckling gaily, and she arched her eyebrow higher.

"Ah, Lizzie, you've just missed it! Coffee everywhere," He gestured emphatically with his hands, "It was magnificent!" She couldn't help but smirk at him, though she tried to frown through her amusement.

"What happened?" She wondered, getting to her feet so she could look out the window toward the main floor.

Ressler was pressing a napkin against his mouth and Samar, who was still holding a content-looking Agnes, was laughing. Aram was looking up toward Liz's office, shocked about something, and when she caught his gaze she gave him a questioning look. He made a chagrined expression and quickly ducked his head toward his computer, and Liz slowly turned a suspicious look toward Red.

"What did you do?" She questioned, and he looked like the cat that ate the canary.

"It wasn't me. It was your daughter." He insisted innocently, and she pursed her lips at him.

" _My_  daughter," She muttered, strolling around him to head toward the main floor. He followed her down the steps, clearly joyful about a possible repeat occurrence from Ressler.

Agnes' face lit up upon seeing her mother, and she leant away from Samar, reaching for Liz.

"I bet this one's ready for a good long nap," Liz grinned as Samar handed her off, and Agnes nestled in her mother's arms immediately. "Everything okay, Ressler?" Liz asked her partner teasingly, and he muttered something sarcastic under his breath, now dabbing the napkin against the front of his shirt.

"Sorry, it just took me by surprise, that's all," He grumbled a little bit louder, narrowing his eyes toward Reddington, who gave him that same innocent look that he'd given Liz earlier.

"Da!" Agnes crowed suddenly, arms reaching out. "Da!"

Turning, Liz realized that Agnes had seen Reddington and wanted to be held by him. He, of course, immediately smiled warmly at her, heedless of the weird looks he was getting from everyone else.

"Shall we trade?" He suggested, holding his hat out toward Liz. She immediately agreed, handing Agnes over and retrieving his hat. She also now had a pretty good feeling about why Ressler had spit coffee out of his mouth. "I'll take her upstairs and make sure she falls asleep." He assured Liz, his eyes on the baby in his arms. Agnes wrapped her hand around his finger, pulling it into her mouth, and he laughed softly as he turned toward the stairs.

The team was silent for a moment as Liz turned back round and found them staring at her.

"What?" She furrowed her brow at them. "She hears me call him Red, and the 'd's and 'g's are about all the distinguishable sounds she can make right now." She explained offhandedly. She tilted her head curiously toward Ressler. "Is that why you spit coffee everywhere? You thought she was calling Reddington dada?" Liz snorted, and Ressler looked affronted.

"She did call him dada!" He insisted. "It was clearly one word! C'mon, Samar, it surprised you, too," He begged for assistance, and Samar raised her eyebrows and turned toward her computer, not saying anything.

"She's a baby, Ressler." Liz admonished him gently, "She calls just about any male she sees by the same noise. She's learning."

"She hasn't called me dada," Ressler muttered, almost sounding a bit hurt by that, and Liz grinned as she patted him consolingly on his shoulder.

"So! As for our next Blacklister," Reddington announced, surprising Liz.

"She's asleep already?" She wondered, facing him. "How do you do that?!" It always took at least a good fifteen minutes of rocking for Agnes to fall asleep for Liz.

"I have my ways," He teased her.

Neither of them paid attention to the slightly narrowed eyes Samar was pointing in their direction.


	6. Chapter 6

"I haven't forgotten, you know." Samar mentioned, closing the door behind her as she walked into Liz's office. Liz looked up from her computer, not following. Samar sat down in the seat across from the desk, resting one leg across the other in a very relaxed demeanor.

"Forgotten what?" Liz questioned, half-returning her attention back toward her computer.

"About your feelings for Raymond Reddington."

"Excuse me?" Liz wondered incredulously, Samar having her full attention now. Samar's eyes narrowed just slightly, pleased at having the upper hand here.

"You care for him, that we all know. But the depth of that? Your _possessiveness_?" Samar mentioned pointedly, and Liz swallowed, suddenly remembering as well. At the time, it had been different... sort of. Maybe not as different as she thought, actually...

"I, that was," Liz stammered.

"There has been a coldness between the two of you ever since you got pregnant." Samar continued casually. "I, as well as everyone else, assumed that was because of Reddington's well-known dislike of Tom Keen. Then you fake your death - which about killed him, I think - and then you get kidnapped, and I truly fully expected more of the cold shoulder treatment." Samar tilted her head curiously at Liz. "But honestly I think the two of you are closer now than you were before."

"We've had a long talk about everything that happened," Liz explained with a weary sigh. "And you know what, honestly, I don't think he should have forgiven me. No matter the things he has done as a criminal, he never deserved any of that from me. I don't think I could ever make it up to him... but somehow, inexplicably, he _has_  forgiven me. For all of it." She was still rather flummoxed by it, but Samar had a small smile on her face as if Liz were being obtuse.

"Of course he's forgiven you, Elizabeth." She shook her head, and Liz frowned a little. She'd yet to ask a question, and Liz wondered what all of this was about. "Against all self-preservation, he makes it so obvious." Samar sighed and got to her feet, and Liz mentally scrambled around for a second as she tried to guess just how much Samar thought she knew about Liz and her relationship with Reddington. "Pay attention to the way he looks at you, next time. Really pay attention."

She had opened the door before Liz found her voice to ask,

"Did you just come in here to offer me relationship advice? With a criminal?"

Samar laughed without any humour.

"I don't get to choose who you attach yourself to, Liz. I just get to decide whether or not I want to put up with all the pining in my presence." She scowled, though it was clearly meant to be a lighthearted expression. "It's getting rather annoying."

"I don't _pine_." Liz muttered, and Samar laughed again, this time with a little amusement behind it.

"I never said you did." She cocked her eyebrow challengingly before shutting the door behind her, leaving Liz alone in her office with her sleeping baby.

She highly doubted _The Concierge of Crime_  was the pining sort, either, but the least she could do was heed Samar's request at watching him a little more closely next time.


	7. Chapter 7

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter starts the higher rating.

"...an absolutely _gigantic_  mackerel on the line, gave a whole new meaning to the term 'holy mackerel'." Red was enthusiastically spinning another one of his fishing tales, and as usual, Liz found herself losing focus. "Lizzie?" He questioned, noticing this time, and she jerked her eyes back to his.

"Sorry," She shook her head to clear it. "I'm sorry."

"Penny for your thoughts?" He mused, leaning toward her slightly. His arm was slung across the back of the couch, his fingers dancing just inches away from her neck as he had been speaking. He tilted his head a little, a small smirk gracing his lips, and she felt the tips of her ears turning red with embarrassment. He knew she'd been staring at his mouth. The fact that he'd been talking wasn't enough of an excuse.

They were on a mission. Now was really not the time to be mulling over Samar's words from the other day.

Her job was to work the room of the club, find an easy mark, flirt with him until he suggested acquiring a private room. The mark would then approach one of the waitstaff, and they would then notify the owner of the club. The owner was well-known to provide extra-special 'gifts' for those in the private rooms - gifts that involved illegal drugs. They were here to catch him red-handed, so to speak.

Reddington had insisted on coming as a stranger, as backup for her in case something went awry. She'd planned on only chatting with him to establish the cover of working the room, since she'd already marked the man she thought would both be easy to persuade and also easy to defend herself against should he become a little too pushy before the feds burst through the doors.

Red's eyes shifted, amusement still there, but something more serious behind his gaze now. She stared back, for once not looking away when his gaze became too heavy. His eyes were deep green, green like the flecks in Agnes' hazel ones, and Liz was rather perplexed that no one has seemed to notice that similarity yet.

She then had a flash of memory; of the taste of wine on her tongue and the smell of salt in the air, the cool creaking of leather against her skin, the solid warmth of a man beneath her. Silk and cotton brushing against her bare skin as he moved with her, the pure heat and possessiveness of his mouth on her neck....

Liz realized she was breathing a little heavily through parted lips, and she pressed her mouth closed and swallowed, her throat dry. Reddington's gaze hadn't wavered, and she knew he had to have known what she'd been thinking about. His expression was ... the only word she could think of was _ravenous_.

She licked her lips and his nostrils flared as he rotated his jaw, restraining himself from...something. From kissing her? She found herself hoping so.

Mission, mission, she needed to remember...

"Perhaps," He breathed out, his tone only wavering in the slightest, "somewhere we could continue this discussion a little more...privately?"

She found herself nodding almost immediately, and he turned his head to find a waiter, his eyes moving away from her at the last moment.

"Reddington's playing the mark? I thought he was just backup," Ressler complained over the comms, annoyed whenever a mission went away from the plan, no matter how minutely.

"Doesn't matter," Liz whispered, hoping she sounded level-headed and focused, "all we need is the owner to offer us the drugs and then we've got him."

"I will admit I feel a little bit better knowing I don't have to bust some random guy for trying to get inside your pants," She heard Ressler's grin in his tone of voice, and she smiled a little as well.

"As if I couldn't take him down myself," She returned, her eyes on Red as he turned his gaze back toward her, having an earpiece as well and hearing every word. His smirk had a shark-like quality to it, and he leant further toward her, his fingers now finally brushing against the nape of her neck. Her eyes closed immediately in response, pleasure tingling down her spine.

She didn't have to reach very far at all to shift her hand from her own knee to his, squeezing just slightly, watching his gaze intensify as if she were the only other person in the room.

(In the back of her mind she knew Samar had been right. He looked at her like this rather often.)

"Sir? Ma'am?" A waiter stood by the couch respectfully, a tray with a bottle of champagne and two clean glasses in his hand, as well as a smaller dish that was covered with a steel lid. "My employer would graciously like to offer you one of the high-priced rooms in the back. Free of charge." His smile unnerved Liz, but she didn't let it show on her face.

Of course the room would be free of charge. That made the option of "paying a little extra" for something more was even more likely. This guy's drugs were his main workhorse, by far.

Red stood, straightening his waistcoat before reaching down for her hand and helping her to her feet as well.

"It would be _my_  honour," Red said in his most flattering tone of voice, and Liz went with the mildly embarrassed but entirely interested responding giggle. The waiter seemed pleased, and led the way through the main area of the club and down an ornately decorated hallway. They passed seven doors before the waiter stopped and opened one up, gesturing they enter first.

Liz's gasp wasn't entirely an act as she took in the room. While the club had been nicely decorated, it was still obviously a club meant for high-priced clients to find their particular vice for the night, to indulge and to leave unnoticed, undiscovered by anyone who may disapprove. This room, on the other hand, looked like any expensive hotel room one would rent in one of the tallest buildings in New York City. It was like stepping through a portal.

"Please, make yourself comfortable." The waiter set the bottle of champagne and glasses on the small table in the far corner of the room. "The champagne is complimentary, and we also offer... other services, for a small fee, if you would like. In the top drawer of the bedside table is a folder detailing everything we offer. If you are interested, please dial 324 on the provided phone." He smiled again before nodding and shutting the door behind him, leaving them alone. He hadn't once even looked toward the metal container still on the tray in his hand, and she wondered if that was supposed to have piqued their curiosity.

"Oh, my," Red pursed his lips as he strode over to the table, picking up the champagne and checking out the bottle. "Oh, you  _must_  try this," he informed her as he began to open the bottle. Meanwhile, she sat down on the edge of the mattress, first peeling off her uncomfortable high heels before opening up the bedside drawer and pulling out the folder the waiter had mentioned.

"Reddington," She chided good naturedly, amused by him but focused on the task at hand. The presence of the other man and the physical distance between the two of them now had worked to clear her head a bit, and she wanted to get this mission over with as soon as possible.

"1988 bottle of Champagne Krug," Reddington sighed admiringly, checking out the bottle one more time before pouring the first glass. "I believe this is almost worth a thousand dollars a bottle. Did you know the Krug family are the only brewers that still ferment their wine in small oak casks?"

She raised an eyebrow, glancing over her shoulder at him as he lifted the glass to his nose and breathed in. He hadn't even tasted the wine yet, and pure pleasure was etched across his face.

She licked her lip again, and reverted her gaze toward the papers in her hand, trying to force her mind to stay on track.

"Oh my God, look at all this," She exclaimed quietly, "There are things listed on here I've only heard rumours of!"

"Hmm," He mused, suddenly standing by the bed right next to her, making her flinch. He held the two glasses in his hands, offering her one. Letting out a small sigh, she acquiesced and accepted the glass from him. He sat down next to her before their hands had even completely parted, watching her intently. She gave him a slightly uncomfortable smile.

"What?"

"I want to see you try it. I want your immediate visceral response." He requested excitedly, and God help her if that didn't turn her on a little bit. Giving him a little teasing grin, she set the black book on the side table and took a sip of the bubbly liquid.

Her eyes immediately widened as soon as it hit her tongue. She was no wine connoisseur, she didn't even have a palate like his, but she knew that this was nothing short of magnificent. She would believe that a thousand dollars might taste a little something like this. Whatever expression was on her face pleased Reddington immensely, and he closed his eyes as he took a drink from his glass as well. He held it in his mouth for a moment before swallowing, and said with eyes still closed,

"The flavours just _burst_  inside your mouth, in all sorts of colours, like fireworks on your tongue," He trailed off and she had to set her glass on the table before she dropped it.

She was letting all of this get to her _way_  too easily. Sure, it had been a while since she last... indulged... but still. She had some self-control!

"The list?" She managed to say, reminded of it. She cleared her throat quietly, and he slowly opened his eyes, looking right at her.

"Let's not rush into it too quickly, my dear." He murmured, deliberately reaching closely around her to place his glass next to hers on the table. He rested his hand on the mattress beside her, instead of pulling back into his own respectable space. "This is, after all, a _gift_  to us from the owner. We have to make sure he believes that we... _appreciate_  it."

His nose almost touched her cheek, and his breath was hot against the corner of her mouth, and she found herself wondering if the champagne would taste just as good on _his_  tongue as it had her own.

She lifted her hand and touched her fingers against his cheek, caressing for a moment, before reaching back further to click the switch on his earpiece. He smiled widely, reaching up to brush a strand of hair behind her ear, before then turning off her earpiece as well.

"Well," She mused, letting her fingers trail down the side of his neck, "how long until you think the right amount of appreciation has been expressed?"

"Oh," he tilted his head toward her hand and laughed softly, "much longer than our FBI friends will be willing to wait."

Her desire was insistent, now, pressing against her chest, making her feel like she couldn't quite take a full breath of air. She wanted the heat of him, the weight of him, his hands trembling against her back, his breath stuttering at her ear, her name a low growl in the back of his throat.

Her mouth opened as she thought about what to say next, and his eyes darted down to watch the movement, his tongue making a quick appearance against his bottom lip.

Immediately after that, she leaned forward, taking his bottom lip between her teeth, making him gasp. Surprising him thrilled her, and she nibbled on his lip gently but purposefully.

He moaned, putting his arms around her and turning them, guiding her onto her back on the bed, taking control of the kiss and deepening it, thrusting his tongue against the roof of her mouth.

(She was right, the champagne was even better like this.)

He ducked his head to drag the tip of his tongue from the base of her throat all the way upward beneath her jaw, his hands making an opposite path down the fitted red dress she wore.

She loved him, she knew that, _god_  she loved him so much it scared her, but right now she just _wanted_  him. The deepest parts of her absolutely ached for him, urgency making her fingers clench the sides of his waistcoat and her body writhe beneath his, desperation making her whine impatiently when he began undoing the buttons himself, his teeth scraping against the curve of her shoulder.

"Please, please," She murmured needlessly; he was already removing the outermost apparel, letting it fall to the floor as he also kicked off his shoes. He grasped her wrists when she started feeling for the buttons of his dress shirt, pausing her actions though he was still pressing his mouth against her collarbone.

"I'm afraid we haven't got that much time, dear," He mumbled against her skin, his kisses apologetic. She hummed in disappointment, but understood, her hands sliding around his back and up, fingernails scraping against the nape of his neck and through his shorn hair.

He shivered, fingers squeezing around her hips as he tried to orientate himself just enough. As much as he wanted to be completely lost in her, now was not the time or place.

Now was probably not even the time or place for _this_ , but he simply couldn't resist any longer, and the fact that she couldn't either was what really did him in.

He slipped his hands down her legs and back up, fingers curling around her knees beneath the dress as he trailed his nose down the front of her dress. His lifted his head to look at her as he hooked his fingers into her panties, pulling them down and off. He tucked them into his pocket with a small smirk, and she groaned again, reaching for him.

He kissed her for a good long minute, his hand up under her dress now, making her squirm as he managed to drive her arousal further without actually tipping her over the edge.

By the time his head disappeared beneath her dress, she was panting his name with equal amounts of threat and desire, her hands grasping at the bedspread.

 

 

**_1 HOUR LATER:_ **

 

The patrons were gathered off to the side of the main room, being watched over by a couple of agents while quite a number of others perused all of the rooms in the back hall, gathering evidence and arresting the staff at fault. Liz and Reddington hadn't made direct contact with the owner himself, but he proved his presence once the FBI squad showed up. It took about a half an hour, but they eventually found his stash of contraband; enough to support his activities for years.

They'd also come across an entire case of that particular bottle of champagne they had tried, and Liz pretended not to notice when Red made sure to ferry it away separate from the FBI's gathered evidence.

Ressler met up with the two of them outside on the sidewalk, Liz shivering just slightly. Her shoes were in her hand, too painful to strap back on again, and the concrete was a bit cold beneath her bare feet.

"What happened in there? If your comms hadn't come back on when they did, I might have called the bluff too early." Ressler wondered, worried for their safety but not going to admit that.

"The rooms must have had some sort of signal blocker." Red mused, shaking his head. He shrugged nonchalantly. "Well, I think this is my cue to disappear." He turned toward Liz, giving her a direct look that was anything but innocent. "Agent Scott."

"Thank you for your help, Reddington." She replied somewhat formally, and his eyes glinted with amusement.

"Anytime, Elizabeth. Anytime." The look in his eyes sent a feeling like warm honey straight down her spine, down to her toes, and for a fleeting moment she remembered that her underwear was still in his pocket. He slipped his hat back on, pulling down at the front of it as he bowed his head in goodbye, before turning and getting into the car that Dembe had pulled around not long ago.

The two agents watched the car drive away, both of them quiet amongst the rest of the commotion, for a moment.

"Don't think I didn't notice that box of wine that went missing." Ressler commented, and Liz turned her gaze toward her partner. His expression was inscrutable, but he didn't seem like he was about to snitch about it, so Liz didn't reply. She smiled gently and squeezed his arm appreciatively before lifting the shoes in her hand.

"Do guys mind handling this from here? I would really like to go change, and check in on Agnes,"

"Of course, of course." Ressler nodded, turning and walking with her to the edge of the police tape, helping her flag down a taxi. "I'll see you tomorrow."

"Thanks, Ressler." She replied, relieved, her mind already elsewhere.


	8. Chapter 8

When she made it back to her 'apartment', she was curious to find only Dembe standing guard closest to the front door. Red's other men were scattered throughout the storage building space, some of them watching a small tv, some of them catching a bit of rest in a darkened corner. She raised her eyebrow questioningly at Red's dearest friend, and he smiled widely as he opened the door for her.

"I could not dissuade him from visiting, even though we've just seen you at the club." He said with an amused apology, and Liz laughed softly, brushing her hand against his arm.

"It's alright, Dembe. I don't mind. Try and get some rest, would you?" She suggested with a grin, knowing he probably would prefer to be on guard the entire night, and he returned the knowing smile, closing the door between them without another word.

The apartment was dim, and quiet, which was good news on the Agnes front. While Liz was a bit disappointed that the last she saw her daughter was early this morning, she was also starting to _really_  appreciate how easily the little girl slept almost entirely through the night.

Tip-toeing into the main area, she could see the back of Reddington's head tilted against the couch cushion. She would almost think he was asleep, except for the champagne glass in his outstretched arm. Knowing he had heard her, she stepped up behind him, brushing her fingers against the back of his head. He released a long sigh of contentment, the sound ending with just a touch of something deeper.

"Raymond," She murmured, leaning over him to kiss the bridge of his nose, and his cheek, before finally his lips. It was a little odd, kissing someone upside down like this, but definitely still enjoyable, and he seemed to agree as he leisurely opened his mouth beneath hers, letting her tongue explore as she chose. He'd been drinking the champagne he 'borrowed' from the club, and it made her smile against his lips.

Careful not to jar him too much and spill his drink, she slipped her hands over his shoulders, pressing her palms down his chest, scraping her nails across the fabric of his shirt over his nipples. He shuddered beneath her, giving her more courage as she slid her hands down his thighs as far as she could reach, and then back up again, gently squeezing around the bulge in his trousers.

"Lizzie," He breathed out slowly, and she kissed his cheek and his jaw, pulling lightly at his earlobe as she squeezed him again, pressing the heel of her palm a little more firmly against him. His hips lifted slightly beneath her hand, providing counter pressure, but he curled his free hand around hers, stopping her. "Lizzie, you don't have to,"

"God, Red, if you knew how you..." She swallowed, resting her chin against the back of the couch and pressing her cheek against his. "I just want to return some of the ...pleasure you've given me," Red moaned at her words and leaned forward just far enough to set his glass onto the coffee table, holding onto her hand to keep her from pulling away from him. He relaxed his head back onto the couch, turned so he could face her.

"Oh, Lizzie, believe me when I say that your pleasure _is_  my pleasure." He told her earnestly, his thumb brushing against the top of her hand. She believed him, and smiled carefully, and he lifted her hand to his mouth so he could kiss it.

"Sorry," She laughed softly, "this is kind of embarrassing. Ever since Agnes... I haven't had sex in months. Between running for my life and ... well, with everything, now that I'm fully healed from the birth, I just..." She laughed again, even though he was giving her a calmly curious look, not judging her at all, "I feel like a damn teenager again." She admitted, gently pulling her hand free and trailing the backs of her fingers lightly against his cheek, back and forth, then her thumb along his lip. He closed his eyes, enjoying her touch, before speaking,

"Please, Lizzie, never be embarrassed by that. There's absolutely nothing wrong with a grown woman wanting sex." He paused for a moment. "But, please, don't speak to me about these things and expect me to keep my hands off of you... not with knowing how much you mean to me."

Her fingers stroking against his face stilled, and he opened his eyes to find her smirking a bit.

"Who ever said I wanted you to keep your hands off of me?"

He looked a bit surprised, for just a moment, before sitting up and shifting closer to her, sliding one hand around the back of her head to hold her there as he kissed her. His fingers tangled through her hair, gripping and holding without yanking painfully, and the angle was a bit awkward and sideways but that didn't matter. His mouth was wet and hot and demanding and he didn't stop her when her hand landed on his crotch again.

He wasn't hard yet but she knew from the noises he was making that it wasn't due to lack of arousal. He seemed perfectly content to whisper dirty things any time his mouth wasn't against her skin, and moan freely when she kissed his neck or squeezed his cock. Blindly she unlatched his belt buckle, only pushing it out of the way before opening up his trousers and slipping her hand inside. He was hot against her palm, his hips bucking into her touch. Remembering how he'd reacted before, she trailed her other hand across the front of his shirt again, nails scraping firmly over his nipple.

He exhaled heavily, and when she started focusing her primary attention toward this sensitive part of him, his breathing quickly became more labored. She kept her hand loosely curled around his cock, giving him long, leisurely strokes. She nipped the outside of his ear and he hissed, his cock starting to fill out. He whispered her name urgently as she twisted her hand, his own hand tightening against the back of her head and holding her where he could kiss her deeply. He trailed his tongue along the roof of her mouth and she gripped him more firmly, brushing her thumb across the head of his cock.

"Fuck," He tore his mouth away from hers, gasping against her lips, "Lizzie,"

She quickened the pumping of her fist, watching how he opened his mouth, but no sound came out save for his loud breaths. Raymond Reddington coming apart because of her touch was possibly the most beautiful thing she'd ever seen.

He started panting more frantically, his eyes squeezed shut as he seemed to be trying to hold himself back. She wasn't sure if that was necessary, considering she'd seen him come before, granted it was a while ago and she'd also been a bit distracted in her own throes at the time.

"Raymond, look at me," She requested, and he did as asked, green eyes boring into hers. Perspiration had gathered on his forehead and she gently brushed her palm across his head, the actions of one hand far calmer than the actions of the other. She smiled lovingly at him and his brow furrowed for a moment, his only tell before his cock pulsed in her hand and his breath staggered with a loud gasp. She continued to give him long, firm strokes until his body completely relaxed, his eyelids drifting closed again as he worked to calm his breathing.

Gingerly extracting her hand, she wiped it clean against his boxers before taking his face between her palms and giving him a deep, slow kiss.

"My God, Elizabeth," He murmured once she pulled away, his head back against the couch and looking rather spent. She felt a deep sense of pride that she'd given him that much pleasure, and a surge of affection for the completely relaxed expression on his face. She tenderly brushed the pads of her thumbs against the curve of his cheeks, unable to keep from smiling at him. When he eventually opened his eyes again, she told him softly but with great seriousness,

"I love you." He smiled slowly and carefully, one hand lifting to grasp hers and hold it firmly. "It terrifies me," She admitted, and his smile wavered into a look of concern. "Both...how much I care about you, and how much power I have over you." He released a breath, and she continued, "Because I do, don't I? Have power over you." The corner of his eye twitched and he did that thing with his tongue that she's come to know as a tell that he was unbearably aroused. "You like that," She realized, but even so, the weight of that, the responsibility of that, was frightening in a way.

"I trust you, Lizzie." He told her honestly, and that in of itself was heavy. She gingerly allowed her hands to slide from his face and she stood straight, walking around the side of the couch to stand almost in front of him. He leaned forward, his expression very serious as he saw her troubled one.

"That's so..." She shook her head, thinking of the hell she'd put him through. "Why?" She wondered incredulously. He sighed quietly, getting to his feet and mirroring her previous gesture; cradling her head between his hands.

"The ripe apple falls." He shrugged rather helplessly. "Doesn't know what else to do."

She wrapped her fingers around his wrists, holding onto him, not pushing him away. She knew that he loved her, she'd known that for a long time, had suspected it long before she was willing to admit so. She tilted her head forward and rested her forehead against his collarbone, and felt him press his cheek against her hair. His fingers played through the ends of her hair, his other arm wrapping around her to hold her body close. They stood like that for an undetermined amount of time before she noticed that his pants still hung open between them. She wondered if he was starting to get uncomfortable.

"Would you like to use my shower?" She murmured against the warmth of his neck, and he nodded. "I can wash those for you, also," She added just a bit teasingly, and felt more than heard his chuckle. On top of coming in his pants, his clothes also smelled of the club they had been in; stale smoke and alcohol that she was sure was unpleasant on his nose.

"I suppose I'll just sleep in my birthday suit, then," He mused rather happily, immediately beginning to unbutton his shirt. She stepped away to give him some space, making a show of eyeing him up and down. He raised an eyebrow in amusement, flaunting the unbuttoning process a bit more.

"Well, considering how well you wear these suits, I'm sure I won't mind." She sassed, making him laugh. Her smile widened at the sound; she'd always loved his laugh, even before she was willing to accept that there were things she loved about him.

Turning to head back into the hall that led to the bedroom and bathroom, she held her hand out for him to take. He slipped his hand against hers without hesitation, threading their fingers together and holding onto her firmly.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> That line about the ripe apple falling was just too good, I had to borrow it and use it here.


End file.
